His True Feelings
by melody425
Summary: This story is from Grissom's POV and reveals how his feelings for Sara have changed from the time he first met her to him leaving for Vegas. I do not own CSI or the CSI characters. Please review!
1. Instantly Intrigued

What can I say about Sara Sidle? Well, she is stubborn, far too emotional, bossy, and very opinionated, but she's also caring, organized, thoughtful, and highly intelligent, probably too smart for her own good. Yes, Sara Sidle is a mixture of qualities. I guess that's why my feelings towards her have always been mixed. I remember telling Sara once that being confused is the best place a scientist can be. Is that true for my case?

When I first met Sara, she was a recent college grad working at San Francisco's finest coroner's lab. I was giving a seminar on how entomology is closely tied with criminology. All members working in a criminal investigation position were invited to attend. Sara's job as a coroner's assistant qualified her to come, since they deal with both naturally caused and crime related fatalities.

When I give seminars, I always scan the audience before hand to see if I can predict who will actually be interested in what I'm saying, verses those who were just forced to come. As I did my pre-seminar ritual, my eyes fell upon a brunette in the third row. She seemed to have come alone, since both seats on either side of her were empty. I have to admit that I was instantly intrigued and attracted to her. I was captivated by her brown eyes that conveyed independence, strength, and intelligence. She was probably too young for me; she looked fresh out of college with her flawless porcelain skin and shoulder length, wavy, brown locks. Still, she could become an acquaintance or maybe even a friend. Why was I thinking about her in an attractive sense anyway? I didn't even know her yet. Anyway, my thoughts were overwhelming me, so I didn't realize I was staring at her, until she turned her head and looked me straight in the eye with a surprised, but curious look on her face. She raised one eyebrow and her lips curled into a half smile. I immediately dropped my eyes from her to the floor, keeping my head angled downward, until I was sure that all the remnants of embarrassment were wiped off my face. When I raised my eyes to her level once again, I was relieved to find that she had taken an interest in the displays on the stage and not in me.

My seminar went well. As usual, the people who were truly interested in the topic sat near the front and were eager to ask me questions, those who had better things to do sat near the back and dozed. Although I got a wide variety of questions from different people, the brunette I eyed earlier asked several. Her questions were highly advanced, thought provoking, and intelligent. One almost stumped me. Normally at the end of a seminar, a few people stick around to ask the speaker for more information. I really hoped that brunette would hang around. I was lucky because she did. She was polite and patient by letting everyone else come up to me first. I was also polite by paying attention to their questions. I was glad to see her out of the corner of my eye as I answered the last question besides hers. As I shook hands with the last gentleman, she approached me. She had a sweet smile on her face as we shook hands and introduced ourselves. She told me she worked for a coroner, but was looking for a job as a CSI, since she was qualified. I told her about my job as a CSI level 3 back in Vegas. She seemed so interested which surprised me. I'm not a sexist guy, but most CSI positions are filled by men, women normally choose the, "lab rat," jobs as they are called, like in fingerprint analysis or in the DNA lab. We talked for twenty minutes, which was the longest conversation I have ever had with a person who had come to one of my seminars. We would have talked longer, but the janitor came in and told us that the auditorium was closing up for the night. I wanted to continue to talk with her and I could tell that she did too. I thought about asking her out for coffee that night, but it was late, so we arranged to meet at an Italian restaurant, a few blocks away from the auditorium for lunch the next day. We said our goodbyes and she walked out as I finished packing up my things. During the walk to my car, I could only think about what stories and cases I should tell Sara about tomorrow during lunch. I wanted to intrigue her and show her the different sides of crime investigation, but mostly, I just wanted to impress her.


	2. Next Few Hours

Wow, I did not sleep well that night. Part of me was excited for my, "lunch date," with Sara because I was actually going to be able to have an intelligent conversation with someone who was truly interested in crime scene investigation. I hadn't met a single person like that since I came to San Francisco. Now, the other part of me was scared senseless. As Charlotte Brontë once said, "A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow." My brain kept saying over and over again, "Why did you do this? She is too young for you and you leave for Vegas in three days!" I still can't figure out why my brain kept referring to her in an attractive sense. I was just going out to lunch with her to discuss the business. It wouldn't even be considered a real date anyway!

I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes before we were supposed to meet, so I got a table for us and waited patiently for her to arrive. I waited patiently in my black pants and my dark blue dress shirt. I had no idea what to wear, so I decided on clothes I would normally wear to work, since we would be talking about work. I was very happy and comfortable with my outfit, until she walked in. The restaurant was semi-formal, so I did fit in well enough, but oh, she fit in even better. Sara entered wearing a little black dress with thick spaghetti straps and a V-neckline. The dress cinched in at the waist with a black band and flowed down her hips to just above her knee where the dress ended. Her gold metallic heels and gold clutch added a nice punch of colour and worked well with the outfit. Her hair was down, touching her shoulders, but tucked behind her ears which completed the look and gave off an elegant feel. Being the gentleman that I am, I stood up and walked over to her. As we greeted each other, I led her to our table with my hand on the small of her back. I pulled out her chair as she started to sit down, but she made a point of pulling the chair into the table herself, which I liked because it showed her independent side.

The meal went very well. In the first few minutes, I learned that she was a vegetarian because she stuck to the salad menu. I had been planning on ordering meat, but decided that might turn her off, so I ordered fish instead. The conversation stayed intelligent and comfortable throughout the main course. Not only did we talk about criminology, we also explored other fields, like medicine and even teaching. Although our conversation was about work, we both managed to tie in that we were single. I think I might have even smiled a little when she told me she worked a lot of overtime because she didn't a special someone to go home to. I tried to cover up my somewhat happy and excited reaction by telling her I was the same way. With this comment made, she had a reaction quite similar to mine, except she didn't try to hide it.

During dessert, we talked about why I was in San Francisco. I told her I was there for a slew of seminars, conferences, and business meetings. When I mentioned that I would be returning to Las Vegas in three days, a look of disappointment mirrored on both of our faces. I think we were both wishing that I could stay an extra couple of days, since we had now formed this friendship like bond. After dessert, I insisted on paying the bill and then escorted her out to her car, which was conveniently parked across from mine. As we reached the side of her car, she asked me the question I was sort of anticipating and sort of dreading: "Do you want to come back to my place for coffee?" Before my brain fully registered the question, I found my mouth opening and the word, "sure," slipping out. I started to mentally kicking myself, but immediately stopped when I saw the smile that was not only on her lips, but in her eyes. At that moment, my brain completely stopped and my heart took in her immense beauty. Then I snapped back to life when I heard her tell me to follow her car. A few seconds later, she got into her car and I walked over to get into mine. I did what she said and followed her. It wasn't a long drive, I think, but then my mind was busy racing with all of the thoughts of what could happen in the next few hours.


	3. Sun in my Eyes

I woke up with the sun in my eyes. Sara's bedroom blinds, which were closed when I had fallen asleep, we're now open, meaning she must be up. I felt comfortable and relaxed in Sara's warm and soft bed. I sat quietly for a second, simply thinking about what the weather would be like and then a rush of memories from the previous night hit me like a tidal wave. I had slept with Sara! I had slept with a woman much younger than me, who was barely out of college! I hardly even knew her! We'd only known each other for two days!

Oh, was my brain ever reeling. I was trying to remember what had happened last night. My thoughts were kind of fuzzy, so I knew alcohol must have been involved, lots and lots of alcohol. Just as I was trying to remember what I drank, Sara startled me with her entrance. She was wearing my dress shirt, which was about four sizes too big for her. She did look very beautiful though…but I wasn't going to let my mind wander from finding out the real truth of what had happened last night. As she came to sit down on the bed, I tried to formulate a question to ask her in my head. I wasn't sure how I should approach the subject. As fate would have it, I didn't have to. As soon as she sat down on the bed, she said that we should talk about what had happened. I tried to form words, but couldn't, so I just nodded my head. I listened so intently while she talked. Every word she spoke brought back a memory of last night. By her third sentence, I fully remembered what had happened. The weirdest thing though was neither of us had had any alcohol.

After our meal at the restaurant and our drive to her apartment, we both got out of our cars. I remember that I was so nervous. I kept my hands in my pockets because they were shaking. As she fidgeted with her keys, I stayed behind her and off to the left, giving her some space, which I now know I did for my own benefit and not hers. Her apartment was very mellow. I could instantly tell she was interested in things like yoga, jazz, and art; all very relaxing things in a very relaxing environment. The walls were a light shade of blue, almost periwinkle blue. The furniture was all black leather just like mine at home. She had various paintings on the wall, most abstract. Sara put down her keys and her coat on an armchair near the door. She took my coat and then asked me if I wanted coffee. I said I would love a cup.

One simple cup of coffee turned into three very quickly. We discussed so many topics over lunch, but we still had more to talk about. We swapped stories about university and our first jobs, bad bosses and bad friends. I could tell that we both enjoyed each other's company. With every cup of coffee we drank, we sat closer and closer together. By cup three, our knees were touching. After cup four, I, surprisingly, made the, "first move." She had a loose strand of hair that she kept brushing to the side, but it kept coming back, so I tucked it behind her ear for her. My hand lingered on her cheek. I stroked it and then cupped her cheek in my hand. She then put her hand on my shoulder. She did pull my shoulder in a little bit, but I leaned in mostly by myself. I remember only looking into her eyes. I think that I actually got lost in them. As soon as our lips touched, there was a powerful passion ignited. It's hard to explain literally, but a quote by Christian Nestell Bovee explains it spiritually, "It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it." My first kiss with Sara was very sweet. That single kiss led to so much more. It led to me running my fingers through her hair, it led her to massaging my back, but in the end, it led me to be in Sara's bedroom waking up the morning after.

As I had this review of events, Sara just sat there staring at the wall behind me. Now that I knew what had gone on, I could now focus on her. I tried to study and read her face, but I couldn't make out what she was feeling. She looked happy but sad, angry but excited, energized but depressed. Since she was unreadable, I had no clue as to how she would react when I said something. However, I still had no idea what to say to her. In my mind I knew I had to end this, it shouldn't have even gone this far, but hey, I'd been alone for long time and I couldn't control myself for once. I also knew that I was leaving for Vegas in two days and I knew that she was too young for me, but to be completely honest, my heart, my soul, and even my mind wanted to be with her. She made me feel different, she understood me and I understood her. Although our relationship was a mere three days old, I felt like I'd been around her forever. After a minute or so, she was still staring at the wall and I knew I needed to say something, but what? Well, I finally decided on the classic, pathetic, overused approach. I reached for her hand and simply said, "Sara…we need to talk."


End file.
